


Tear You Apart

by Zilchtastic



Category: Gackt (Musician) - Fandom, Hyde (Musician) - Fandom, Jpop, Jrock
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, RPF, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-27
Updated: 2011-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilchtastic/pseuds/Zilchtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gackt," I say, as if I'm explaining something horribly simple to my son, "you are not a vampire. That was just a movie--"</p><p>He gestures angrily. "I <i>know</i> that. I'm not talking about that."</p><p>"--and vampires aren't real," I finish. The look on his face is scary-- it's the look he gets when you've just told him he can't possibly do something, and he's determined to prove you wrong. Damn.</p><p>"I'm telling you the truth," he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Is Not What I Was Expecting

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ANCIENT fic, written at least five or six years ago (if not more). It's a little embarrassing now, but I think it's also pretty funny and definitely entertaining, so here it is. The title is from the song by She Wants Revenge, and no, it's not the original title at all.

I hate visiting Gackt's house.

It's not a bad place, as places go. I mean, it's big, but it's also dark and a little tacky. The lighted fountain just makes me want to laugh every time I see it. Does he really think that's romantic?

The door is open when I get there, so I invite myself in. Gackt always does that-- won't greet you at the door, just leaves it open and then waits for you to wander in and find him. I always feel a little bit like I'm walking into the minotaur's maze, and I find myself wanting to peer around the corners suspiciously as I walk.

"Gackt?" I call out, one hand on the wall so I won't trip. It isn't really _that_ dark, but after the summer brightness from outside, Gackt's place seems as dark as a tomb.

Awful thought.

"Gacchan?"

"In here." His voice isn't far away, and I know damn well he heard me the first time. Either he wanted me to find him on my own, or he just likes the sound of his own name.

I slip through the doorway and find him in the living room, leaning against the back of his white leather couch like he was posing that way, waiting for me to come in and see him, his clothes a dramatic black offset to all the white. _Typical theatrics_ , I think with a roll of my eyes, but the truth is that he's really good at it. Only Gackt could look like he's waiting for a photoshoot to begin in his own house, on a day off, and not seem ridiculous.

I stop a few feet away, with the couch between us. "Hi," I say, putting hands in my pockets, feeling awkward. "What's up? You called."

Gackt holds the pose for another two breaths, then turns just his head to look at me. "Hyde," he says, breathing out my name like a prayer. Two years ago his voice would've made me shiver, but I'm used to it now and manage to keep still.

"You called me," I remind him, preparing to settle in for one of _those_ visits. Gackt is in A Mood, and Gackt in A Mood always means I'm in for an even weirder time than usual. Talking to him when he's like this is like pulling teeth-- deep-voiced, seductive teeth, but teeth nonetheless.

"I did," he says, nodding, and finally his pose relaxes, or maybe melts is a better word, just enough to let him move around the couch as he steps over to one of the spare, elegant cabinets against the wall. "I'll pour you a drink."

I make a face. "Gacchan, it's only five in the afternoon, and I'm trying to... cut back...." I trail off as he looks at me, expression tight and blue eyes intense, opening the cabinet despite my objections.

"Whiskey?" he asks, as if I hadn't just spoken. After a beat he adds, "You're going to need it."

I have a bad feeling about this. I wet suddenly dry lips.

"Whiskey," I say. I gauge his expression a little more. "Straight up," I decide, quickly.

What the hell is he getting me into _this_ time?

***

I hold the glass of whiskey carefully as I sit down on Gackt's couch. He stays standing, which bugs me and relieves me at the same time. On one hand, it now feels like he's lording over me. But on the other, at least he's not sitting next to me, doing his "I don't know the meaning of Haido's personal space" thing.

I take a sip and immediately start coughing. It's cheap-ass whiskey and it _burns_. This isn't the kind of whiskey you save for guests, it's the kind you save for yourself, for those times when you just want to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible. Skip the happy-go-lucky stage and just get on with the passing out.

"What's wrong, Gacchan?" I have to ask, even though it's obvious he's going to tell me whether I ask or not. Gackt appreciates it when you pretend to prod him into revealing his deep, dark secrets.

He lets out a quick, frustrated sigh, hand going up to smooth through his hair in an unusual nervous gesture. He's shifting on his feet, too, as if he wants to pace, or at least turn away from me, but is fighting the urge.

"Come on," I say, leaning forward. "It can't be _that_ bad--"

"Hyde, I'm a vampire," he says, pinning me with his eyes.

"Um." That's my clever response.

Gackt sighs again, then moves to perch on the edge of the coffeetable.

"Drink your whiskey," he says, "and I'll explain everything."

***

"Gackt," I say, as if I'm explaining something horribly simple to my son, "you are not a vampire. That was just a movie--"

He gestures angrily. "I _know_ that. I'm not talking about that."

"--and vampires aren't real," I finish. The look on his face is scary-- it's the look he gets when you've just told him he can't possibly do something, and he's determined to prove you wrong. Damn.

"I'm telling you the truth," he says.

I can feel a headache coming on, and I resist the urge to rub the bridge of my nose. "Sure, Gackt. So you're a four hundred year old vampire. Who ages, eats food, and goes out in the sunlight--"

"I never said I was four hundred."

"You _did_ too, I have the video on my iPod if you want me to prove it--"

He makes another angry shut-up gesture. "I know, but that was just... That was only _effect_. I didn't mean it then. I mean it _now_." For a second he looks almost embarrassed. "Perhaps I'm only a year and a half old. If you're counting like that."

I swear, I am not going to laugh. I am _not_ going to laugh. "So you're a baby vampire." I can't quite keep the mocking tone out of my voice.

His expression turns sharp, angry. "You think I'm joking."

"I think you're _crazy._ When's the last time you had a vacation? Maybe it's time to relax a little--"

He's in my face before I can think to move, crawling across the coffeetable to glare right into my eyes.

"You want me to prove it?" he hisses, and I think, _oh no._

And then he's gone. Just. Gone. The coffeetable is glaringly, startlingly empty of Gackt. Impossible. Im. Fucking. _Possible._

"Believe me now?" Gackt whispers, right in my ear.

I scream.

***

"This can't be-- Th-this can't be _real_... You just. I mean, I blinked. I blinked really slowly and you--"

Gackt is back on the edge of the coffeetable now, looking cool and composed. I hadn't seen him move that time, either. Fuck! Fucking fuck!

"You didn't blink," Gackt says, expression bland. It's his _you idiot_ face.

"But, but _how_ \--" I can't seem to stop babbling. "You don't have any _fangs!_ " Right now, this seems like a really important detail to me.

"I do," Gackt says, "when I need to. I'm told that as I grow older they'll become more... permanent."

"Permanent?" My voice goes up on the last syllable, squeaking.

Gackt nods, expression still bored.

"You've got to be kidding me. You've got to be-- Cameras. There's projector cameras hidden here somewhere, right? This is like an episode of _Scooby Doo_ , and you're just--"

Arms close around my shoulders, and all the air leaves me in a startled _whoosh_. I look up, and of course, there's Gackt.

"Coffeetable," I murmur, weakly. "You were on the c-coffeetable..."

He's standing behind the couch now. I look back at the coffeetable, as if I'd find a stunt double sneaking away there. No luck.

"Fuck," I say. " _FUCK._ "

"Drink your whiskey," says Gackt.

***

My hands are shaking badly enough that I fear for Gackt's couch. I stare down into the alcohol. The world _had_ made sense twenty minutes ago, hadn't it? I longed for twenty minutes ago. I longed to be off of Gackt's couch and back in my car, but I didn't have the balls to try running for the door.

Well, whiskey it is, then. I lift the glass and down the entire thing in one awful, burning gulp. I cough and wheeze as it sizzles its way down like lighter fluid. "Holy shit," I manage to gasp.

Gackt pats me on the back, reassuringly, but his touch only makes me jump. "Gackt! Could you-- Over there. Go sit over there. Please?"

He looks hurt, but he dutifully moves to perch on the edge of the couch. Twenty minutes ago he'd have been far away enough that I'd have felt reassured. Now, I don't think I'd feel safe if he were standing on the other side of the room.

It takes me a few minutes to regain my composure. Gackt stays politely still, making no sudden movements. Maybe he feels bad for startling me so much. Or maybe he's just doing like cats do, going motionless right before the pounce and the kill.

I make a sound that starts as a laugh and ends more like a sob. "You're a... You really are, aren't you? You're not fucking with me?" I wonder if my voice sounds as plaintive as I think it does.

"I'm not fucking with you," Gackt says, voice smooth and low and quiet. It sounds reassuring. I _want_ it to be reassuring. I laugh again.

"Fuck," I say. "Jesus fuck. When...?"

"A year ago. Year and a half, almost."

I think back to a year and a half ago, sifting through my memories of Gackt. Did he seem different? Should I have noticed? We didn't hang out that much these days, but surely vampirism isn't something you overlook the way you overlook a mediocre haircut or a boring shirt. Shouldn't I have known?

"You couldn't have known," Gackt says, startling me out of my thoughts.

"The hell!" I set the tumbler down harder than I'd intended, and the sharp noise of glass on glass makes me jump. "Are you reading my mind?"

The son of a bitch actually smirks at that. "What if I said I was?" Then the smile slips off his face. "Hyde, you've gone pale. Hyde, Hyde, I was only joking, don't faint--"

"I don't faint!" I snap, leaning forward and breathing fast as the dizziness goes by. "For fuck's sake, Gackt, don't tease me now. I can't take it."

He tries really hard to look contrite. "I won't tease you anymore."

I take deep breaths and try to feel relieved. "So you don't read minds?"

"No, Hyde, I don't read minds." Now _he_ sounds like the one explaining something to a small child.

"But you do drink, uh..."

"Blood. Yes." And he looks away from me at that, as if he's embarrassed or ashamed.

I try to imagine Gackt wandering the dark streets of Tokyo, mauling innocent victims for their lifeblood. The mental image is both absurd and scary. Wouldn't someone have caught on to him by now?

"I don't need to... eat that often," he says, and once more I wonder if he was really joking about that mind-reading thing. "If I keep control of myself, I can go weeks without."

I want to ask what happens when he _doesn't_ keep control of himself, but I'm not that stupid.

"Don't worry," says Gackt. "I'm not going to hurt you." But when he says it with those _eyes_ , I'm less than reassured. Normally I just assume he's undressing me in his mind, but now I wonder if he isn't imagining me on a platter with an apple in my mouth.

"Um," I say, "it's getting late, maybe I should get going..."

Gackt does that scary vampire teleportation thing again, because suddenly he's on all fours, leaning over me as if he's going to climb onto my lap. I take in a startled breath and then hold it, too scared to even exhale.

"Don't be afraid," Gackt says, lips just brushing my ear. "Hyde, my Hyde..."

When I finally manage to say something, my words come out in a teenaged boy's squawk. "I'm not your Hyde," I go, "and if you kill me I'm going to be really mad!"

I realize as soon as I say it that it's the dumbest thing in the world anyone could possibly say, ever. Here I am, about to be torn to shreds by Gackt Camui, and--

\--he's laughing?

I finally let out my air in a weak sigh of relief as he draws back. "Hyde, you say the funniest things."

I resist the urge to rub at my mercifully non-bitten neck as I scowl at Gackt. "You promised you'd stop fucking with me," I say, accusingly.

He smiles, apologetically. "I'm trying, but you're just so tempting. Like a piece of chocolate cake to someone on a diet..."

" _Dammit_ ," I say, fear and anger finally getting the best of me. "Did you invite me here to kill me? Do you want to bite my neck, Gackt?" If I'm going to die, I think I'd like to know a minute in advance so I have the time to let my life flash before my eyes. My heart is pounding in my ears so loud I wonder if Gackt can hear it.

Gackt looks confused, and when he reaches out to touch me I flinch. He draws his hand back, slowly, like I'm a startled deer and he doesn't want me to run.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you, and I meant it."

"But you just said--"

Gackt snorts. "I can control myself, Hyde, tempting as you are." And I don't like the way his eyes drift down to my neck at that. "Besides, it wouldn't really _hurt_."

"I'd still be dead!"

His lips start to quirk until he's full-out smirking at me. "You're small, Hyde, but I don't think I could finish you in just one meal."

I open my mouth to say something indignant, but he just keeps smiling as he shakes his head. "No, I mean that seriously. Do you know how much blood there is in the human body? It would take me _days_ to kill someone that way. I don't need that much. Afterward, people are just a little dizzy, that's all."

I stare at him, open-mouthed. Finally I can't take it anymore.

"Gackt, you _idiot!_ " I punch his shoulder as hard as I can.

"Ow! What did I do?" He gives me the innocent Why Me? face.

"You made me think that you were... that you've been going around _killing_ people for the last year," I say. "Would it have been so hard to tell me this in the beginning?"

Now he actually _does_ look contrite. "I didn't even think of it. I thought it was obvious. You haven't been hearing about bizarre bloodless corpses being left around the city, have you?"

"Well, no..."

"Okay, then." He smooths down the front of his shirt, as if it had gotten wrinkled somehow in the process of coming out to me. "Now, to get back to the matter at hand." And then he plasters on his most beguiling bedroom look, the one that says _come get me now, baby_. "Really, I promise it wouldn't hurt..."

"GACKT."

"Yes?"

"I AM GOING HOME NOW."

The idiot has the nerve to look crestfallen. Did he really think I'd fall for that?

It's probably best not to ask.


	2. Please Tell Me You're Kidding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Don't tell anyone, Hyde. Please."_ Gackt's last words still ring in my ears as I push through my own front door.

_"Don't tell anyone, Hyde. Please."_ Gackt's last words still ring in my ears as I push through my own front door.

Megumi is sitting at the kitchen table, paging through a catalogue of creams that promise to BANISH WRINKLES AND RESTORE THAT YOUTHFUL COMPLEXION NOW! They're expensive as hell, and I'd be mad at her for ordering them so often, but the reason they run out so quick is that I use them whenever she's not looking.

"Hi, darling," she says, without looking up.

"What if it was someone else who walked in, and not me?" I say, forgetting Gackt for a moment.

"I know your footsteps," she replies, turning a page. "Besides, the delivery man, I call him "hot stuff". Did you have a nice visit with Gackt?"

I roll my eyes, and then like a kick to the head I remember my "visit" with Gackt.

 _Don't tell anyone, Hyde._

"Gackt is a vampire," I say, before I can stop myself.

Megumi doesn't even blink. "I know," she says.

***

Every now and then, I'm a little slow on the uptake.

"Yeah, I was surprised, too, I-- Wait, _what?_ " I stare at my wife, trying to figure out if I heard her right.

The world wasn't crazy when I woke _up_ this morning, was it?

"I said, 'I know'," she repeats, helpfully.

I continue to stare at her. "Don't you know that this is the part where you tell me I'm reading too many horror novels or watching too much Harry Potter or something?" I say, and even to me my voice sounds pleading. "You're going to say 'Darling, that's crazy talk, you've got to stop reading the _Necronomicon_ before bed, now go lie down and stop imagining things'."

Megumi snorts, delicately.

I throw myself into one of the kitchen chairs, slouching as despondently as I can. "You were supposed to reassure me," I say, accusingly. And then, "But how the hell would you know Gackt is a--?"

" _Please_ ," says Megumi, "it was so obvious. The beauty, the mysteriousness, the aura of seduction..."

"Stop sounding like you've got a crush on him," I snap, irritably. "Besides, that's just part of being a rock star, it doesn't mean he's a freaking vampire." I finally give in to the urge to rub the bridge of my nose.

Megumi shrugs her tiny shoulders. "Well, I also read this book at my friend Mika's house, it was what got me suspicious in the first place. It was called _Psychic Vampires and You: A Book of Psychic Defense_ , or something like that."

I stare at her. And stare. And stare.

"...What?" She shifts in her seat. The magazine crinkles.

"Megumi...." She's wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Gackt's not just leaching off of peoples' auras here. Being around him is a draining experience all right, but not in the way she thinks.

I let my forehead thunk against the tabletop. "My head hurts," I whine, despairingly.

"You know where the aspirin is," Megumi says.

***

I clunk my way into the bathroom and flick on the lights. Christ, what a day, and it's not even dinnertime yet. I scrutinize myself in the mirror as I struggle with the cap on the aspirin bottle. Any new wrinkles? It seems like I'm older every damn time I look at myself. I sigh and give up on the meds, leaning forward to look closer into the lighted mirror. It seems like just yesterday I was twenty-one and perfect. How did I ever get so old?

I make faces at myself, noting the lines around my eyes and mouth. For the hundredth time I wonder if it's too early yet for a facelift. I'm not _that_ far gone, am I?

My thoughts wander back to Gackt. In a way, I think, he's lucky. What would it be like to look in the mirror every morning and not have to worry about wrinkles or sagging skin or losing your hair? A wave of envy runs through me. What a relief it would be...

A folded piece of paper on the countertop catches my eye. Frowning, wondering why I didn't notice it before, I pick it up, thinking Megumi must have left it there. I turn it over.

On the back, in disconcertingly familiar handwriting, it just says _HYDE_.

 _I've got a BAD feeling about this..._ I can't help but bite my lip as I carefully, slowly unfold it.

There's only one sentence scrawled across the stark whiteness of the paper, the black ink looking like it's barely dry.

 _You could have this, too._

I look up just in time to catch sight of Gackt's face in the mirror.

Then I start screaming for my wife.

***

He's gone when I turn around, and I let myself think that maybe, _maybe_ I imagined it. But no-- the note's still in my hand, and if I focus, I can just smell a lingering trace of Platinum Egoiste on the air.

A second later, Megumi is stomping down the hall, hands on hips. "Hyde!" she says, sharply. "How many times have I told you? What kind of example are you for our son if you're always screaming every time you see so much as a cricket?"

"It wasn't a cricket! It was--" I break off, suddenly, as I realize that I don't want her to know. Would she even believe me, anyway?

I put on my best indignant expression. "Besides, our _son_ isn't even here, you shipped him off to your mother's for the weekend."

Megumi blows out a puff of air, flipping her bangs out of her eyes. "That's beside the point." She looks petulant and pretty and very young, if you can pretend you don't see the tiny crows' feet.

The paper feels smooth between my fingers, dry and cool.

I stuff it in my back pocket and then turn Megumi to march us both down the hall. "Let's go out," I say, kissing the side of her neck.

"What? All of a sudden? I haven't even done my hair--"

"Do your hair, then," I say. "Let's just go. I'll take you somewhere nice for dinner."

"Oooh," Megumi shivers happily. "Someplace French?"

"Anywhere you like." I give her butt a pat as I push her in the direction of the bedroom. "Just hurry and get ready. I promise I won't peek."

She giggles as she shuts the door, and I can already hear her rummaging through the walk-in closet.

Meanwhile, I lean against the wall, feeling strange and trembly inside.

 _You could have this, too._

What the hell is that supposed to mean?


	3. Who Could Make a Choice Like This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door opens before my raised hand even touches the wood, and I let out a swallowed shout of surprise as I step back.

"Ooh, I'm a little dizzy, sweetheart." Megumi stumbles as we make our way back to the car after dinner.

 _It's about time,_ I think to myself. I've been plying her with Mai Tais all night, but it seems I've forgotten my wife's alcohol tolerance. She's not very big, so how does she manage to drink so much in one sitting and not _die_?

I put my arm around her waist, supportingly. "We're almost to the car," I say, "and then we'll be home and you can go to sleep." I try to sound as enthusiastic as I can, as if sleep is the best event of the evening and she should really be looking forward to it.

Megumi giggles and wobbles again, probably thanks to the fact that she's wearing her highest heels. She nuzzles the side of my neck, and actually has to lean _down_ to do it. "Mmm, but what if I want to do something _else_?"

Uh-oh. If she's feeling frisky it could complicate my plans. I try not to think about the implications of trying to _distract_ my wife from sex. I swear to God, I'm actually normal.

I calculate time versus distance to drive versus when I have to be awake tomorrow morning, divided by the effort it'll take to get my wife unconscious. Then I make my decision.

"There's a bar down the block," I say, brightly, as if I've just had the Best Idea Ever. "Let's stop for a nightcap, Gorgeous."

***

By the time I get us up to our front door, I'm practically dragging Megumi across the threshold. "C'mon," I grunt, straining to keep her upright. "Just a little... farther..."

Megumi mumbles something about maraschino cherries. Her eyes don't even open.

It takes superhuman effort, but I manage to haul her all the way to the bedroom and into our bed. I stare at her as I lean on the bedpost, panting with exertion, and try to decide if it would be too asinine to just leave her there in all her clothes.

Finally I decide that it's not worth it to get slapped in the morning, so I take the time to pull off her shoes and hose and to carefully unhook all her jewelry so it won't get tangled. She's still going to be irritated tomorrow-- she's already smearing makeup all over the pillowcase, and her little silk dress is going to be a wrinkled mess-- but maybe if I make her breakfast she'll forgive me. Maybe.

At last I get her arranged to my satisfaction, and I do the gentlemanly thing and pull the covers up to her chin. Megumi sighs as I lean down to kiss her forehead, but other than that she doesn't stir. The lady is down for the count.

Good. I look at the digital clock-- three forty-two a.m. I make my way back out to the car, trying my best not to think too hard about what comes next.

It's not yet four a.m. Surely Gackt will still be awake.

***

The door opens before my raised hand even touches the wood, and I let out a swallowed shout of surprise as I step back.

Gackt's filling up the doorway, smiling at me, eyes heavy-lidded and lazy like the proverbial cat after it's lapped up all the cream.

"Hello, Hyde," he purrs at me. "What did I do right, that you're visiting me twice in a day?" His smile is dark, satisfied, like he knows damn well what he's done but wants me to tell him anyway.

I scowl and want to punch him, or to at least point out that it's after midnight and thus it's technically the _next_ day. Instead I push past him, swallowing down my heart in my throat as I do. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk into his place, and for the dozenth time I wonder what the hell is wrong with me for coming back here. I refuse to look back at him, even when I hear the _click_ of the front door being locked. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

"Can I get you a drink?" He's already standing at the liquor cabinet when I walk into the living room, and I can't help letting out a yelp of surprise.

"Will you _stop_ that, you son of a bitch?" I yell, thrown off guard. So much for not being rattled.

Gackt only smiles as he slides open the doors. "Something milder this time, perhaps. You already smell like you've had a few tonight."

I'd only had two drinks, nursed through the entire night just so Megumi wouldn't accuse me of making her drink alone. How the hell could Gackt smell it on me?

He walks over to me, slowly, a glass in each hand. He's still smirking as he hands me the drink, and I take it with bad grace and hold onto my scowl. Some of the liquid splashes against his hand, and I don't apologize for it.

He's standing too close, close enough that I can feel his body heat, close enough that I have to look up to see his face. "It's an amaretto sour," he says, nodding, and I remember _oh yeah, the drink, the drink that I'm holding,_ and then he raises his hand to his mouth and licks it clean.

Humiliatingly, my mind goes blank.

 _Too close, too close, get the hell out of there, Hyde!_ screams the part of my brain that isn't fogged by alcohol and stupidity. I finally remember to breathe, and then I take a step back, far enough to clear my head, far enough to not be almost touching him anymore. My back is against the wall, but it's better than nothing. I sip my drink and stare at the floor and will my hands not to shake.

This was a really bad idea.

I clear my throat. _Just get this over with, Hyde._

"You were... was that really you, tonight?" I hate the way I sound so unsure. I left the house with so much confidence, but it's all dissolved like wet tissue paper.

"What do you mean?" His words are innocent but his tone isn't. I can hear the laugh in his voice.

I look up at him, feeling some determination flow back on the tide of my anger. "Don't fuck with me! I know this was you!" I pull the note out of my back pocket and wave it in his face like an accusation, which I guess basically it is. "Are you going to tell me now that you have an evil vampire twin who wears your perfume and has the same handwriting?"

"It's _cologne_ ," he corrects me, primly. "And no, I don't have an evil twin. That would be rather absurd, don't you think?"

"So it was you." Mentally I'm thanking the powers that be, because one Gackt is _already_ more than I can handle.

He doesn't answer right away, just does that wicked smirk again as his eyes slowly make their way from my face to my feet and then back again. I swallow hard and pray that X-ray vision isn't one of his magical vampire powers. Maybe I should've worn lead underwear today.

Maybe I should've worn underwear, period.

"You have a nice bathroom," he says at last, voice deliberately bland, which is as close to an answer as I'm going to get.

My hand tightens on the paper, crinkling it. "Dammit, Gackt, stop with the mind games. What the hell does this mean?"

I expect another veiled comment. What I _don't_ expect is to be suddenly pinned against the wall as Gackt presses in close, hands digging into my upper arms almost hard enough to hurt.

I let out a startled gasp. The glass slips right out of my fingers, but Gackt doesn't even twitch when it shatters at our feet. I can't look away from his face. Those are the eyes of a predator, a cat ready to spring, wide and bright and excited. I'm too scared to move, or to even remember why I'd want to.

"Do you know how I became what I am?" he asks, voice almost too low to hear except that he's practically speaking the words into my mouth.

"I... someone bit you, I guess?" That's how it works in the movies, anyway.

Gackt nods once, slowly. "She came to me one night, as I lay in my hotel room. I was too scared to move. She wasn't beautiful, but her eyes..." He shakes his head, as if to get rid of the memory. "She said I was beautiful, too beautiful to face the ravages of time. She said she couldn't bear to watch me get old. She promised I'd be exquisite forever." He swallows hard. "It was a good deal, now that I think about it. I might have accepted it, anyway, if she'd thought to ask my opinion. But she didn't give me a chance to say 'no'."

I don't know what to say to this, so for once I keep my mouth shut.

"I've been watching you, you know," he goes on. His hand moves up to touch my hair and I flinch, but there's nowhere to go, no way to escape with my head already pressed against the wall. "Every smile, every gesture, every new hairstyle." He's moving closer, God, I can feel his lips brushing mine every time he speaks. "Every new line on your pretty face."

I'm breathing so rapidly it's making me dizzy. I'm two steps away from panic and closing the distance fast.

"Gackt--" I begin, and opening my mouth is a mistake, because that's when he kisses me.

It's not until he slips his tongue into my mouth that my addled brain even scrapes together enough wit to raise my arms and push him away. I'm vaguely surprised when he actually _moves_ \-- a part of me suspects that he only does it to keep me from out and out terror.

I slide sideways, moving along the wall until there's a little more distance between us, and then I sag against the wall, letting it hold me up as my knees turn to liquid. I'm breathing like I just did the hundred-meter dash, sucking air in and shuddering on every outbreath. I put my hand out, as if to ward him off. Like that could actually deter him.

Gackt doesn't move, just stares at me with luminous, hungry eyes. He isn't smiling anymore. His look is too famished for that.

It takes me more than two minutes to slow my breathing, to regain enough composure to speak.

"Tell me what you're saying," I rasp, even though I know. I knew it from the beginning, knew before I even got in the car to drive over here, but I want to hear him say it, _need_ to hear him say it, anyway.

He grins at me then, eager, excited, and my terror spikes again. I can see fangs now, and if he comes at me again I'm going to break.

But he just holds out his hand to me, like an invitation.

"Come with me," he says, and the darkness in his voice makes me shiver in fear, or maybe something else. "Hyde, my Hyde. You're too beautiful to grow old...."


	4. Thinking is Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day goes by in a haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning: This chapter has it. *grins*

The next day goes by in a haze.

There're meetings with company execs, an interview for a magazine I forget the name of almost immediately, a call from Ken that I mumble my way through. I hang up on him accidentally about halfway; he doesn't bother to call me back.

Even Megumi notices I'm spacier than usual, in her own special way.

"Darling," she says, "you've got your shoes on the wrong feet."

So _that's_ why I've been walking funny all day. Embarrassed, I sit down to switch them, then give up and just kick them off in the general direction of the doorway. I slump in my chair and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"Too much to drink last night?" Megumi asks, sympathetically. She usually has no pity reserved for hangovers, but since she woke up crying for the aspirin bottle this morning herself, I'm guessing she's feeling magnanimous for once.

"Something like that," I say, imagining the shattered glass on Gackt's living room floor.

Megumi smoothes my hair down, a motherly gesture. "Don't worry," she says, after a long, thoughtful moment. "Whatever's troubling you, I'm sure you'll do what's best for you." Then she moves away, off in the direction of the bedroom.

"What?" I sit up, staring after her, my heart suddenly thudding faster. Does she know something?

"I'm going out for the rest of the afternoon--!" is what she calls back, merrily.

I stare at the tabletop and do my best to think.

***

Staying home alone isn't an option-- I'm too anxious, and honestly too nervous that I'll turn around and Gackt will be there. I don't want to see him right now. I need time to _think_.

I search for my shoes and grab my jacket. It's unseasonably cool out today, cloudy and grey, as if summer is only hanging on by its toenails while autumn pushes from behind. I'm starting to look forward to the change-- in my dreams, I'm longing for red-gold leaves and that sharp, smoky bite in the air. But when I step outside the cicadas are still droning, like they're going to keep the cold at bay with their song.

I press my hands deep into my pockets as I head for the sidewalk.

Something crinkles.

I freeze for a moment. _It could be a gum wrapper, a credit card receipt, a 1000-yen note you didn't know you had._ But it doesn't feel like any of those things.

I refuse to look right now. Instead, I make my way to the closest park, a sparse patch of ground with a cluster of trees that could be a forest, although a forest you could lay down in and have your head and feet sticking out both ends. There's a tiny playground here, too, and sometimes Megumi brings our son here to play in the sandbox.

I'm usually too busy.

I sit down on one of the benches. Slowly and carefully, I pull the note out of my pocket, unfolding it like it will explode if I move too fast.

 _I'm sorry,_ it says. _You don't have to say 'yes'._

My hands shake.

I smooth out the last fold. At the very bottom of the paper, as if added as an afterthought, is a hastier-looking scrawl:

 _But I don't want to spend forever alone._

I tell myself it's just the wind, making my eyes water. I scrub a trembling hand across my face.

As my lies go, it's a poor one.

***

I burn the note in the sandbox. I'm not sure why, I only know that I can't keep it and I can't risk just throwing it away. It's too personal, somehow, and I can't stand the thought of it blowing away and being picked up by some stranger.

Then I walk. I keep my head down, my eyes focused on the sidewalk. The wind tugs at me, pulling at my hair, lifting the bottom of my jacket as I walk. I can smell rain coming, but I don't stop.

I don't know how long I've been walking. My legs are tired, and with a start I realize it's getting dark. I've been out here for hours. I look around. The neighborhood looks vaguely familiar, but I know it isn't mine. I try to tell myself that surely I'm not where I think I am, but the tight feeling in my chest tells me otherwise.

A cool drop of water splashes against my cheek. I raise my head as another falls, and then another, and then almost before I have time to blink it's full-out raining. I just stand there with my head tipped back, letting it rain on my face, soak into my hair. The smell of ozone and wet pavement is thick in my nose.

I'm starting to get cold, and something tells me that I can't delay any longer.

The streets are oddly silent and empty as I make my way to Gackt's place.

***

The door opens before I knock, but this time I'm expecting it so I don't jump. Much.

"Let me in," I say. Gackt looks vaguely surprised.

"You're soaking wet," he points out.

I look back over my shoulder. "See that?" I say. Gackt looks. "That's _rain_ ," I continue. "It has a tendency to make things wet."

Gackt gives me the flat _fuck you_ look, and it's so familiar and _normal_ that I start to giggle, helplessly.

"Hyde?" Gackt's voice is cautious, like the way you'd talk to a mental patient on a ledge. "Are you okay?"

Okay? _Okay?_ He throws the worst temptation of my life in my face, and then he asks if I'm _okay?_

Instead of answering him, I peel my wet jacket off and drop it carelessly on the floor. Next I kick off my soggy shoes. Gackt says nothing now, just watches, expression neutral.

"Let me use your shower," I say.

It takes a long minute for Gackt to nod. "Alright."

***

I take the longest shower of my life, partly because I'm freezing and partly because it gives me time to put off facing Gackt. I'm not even sure what I'm going to say to him. _Sorry, but I'll have to decline your generous offer_? Or maybe _I have a wife and a kid and I'm having a great time getting old._ Or maybe I should stick with the old classic, _Let's just be friends._

Jesus Christ.

I turn off the water and step out of Gackt's shower. There's a towel right on the marble countertop. Was it there before? I try not to think about it as I wrap it around myself. The shower room is steamy-hot, but I'm shivering again. Damn.

"Hyde?" I'm horribly relieved that Gackt's voice comes from the _other_ side of the door. "Are you okay in there?"

Was he outside the door the whole time, listening? "No," I snap, with more heat than I intended, "I got lost in your gigantic bathroom, and now I need a search party."

I realize it was the wrong thing to say as the door swings open.

Gackt saunters in. His expression is no longer unsure or careful. Now he looks arrogant again-- arrogant and _hungry_. I pull the towel a little tighter around myself as I take a step back.

Gackt stops about two feet away. He smiles, slow and seductive, and this time I'm sure he's picturing me minus one fluffy towel. "Found you," he says, voice rich with laughter.

 _I'm a GUY,_ I want to point out, but by now it's probably not even a valid argument. Does it even matter, in the face of so much more craziness, if Gackt wants my body or not? He wants a lot more than _that_ , and my manly virtue should probably be the last of my worries.

I swallow, hard. "Gackt--"

"What happened to 'Gacchan'?"

I pause, then start over, carefully. Hey, if it will make him happy... "Gacchan--"

"Say it like you mean it."

My temper frays. "Goddammit, I am trying to _turn you down_ here!" Oops. Not quite the way I wanted to say it.

But Gackt looks unperturbed. If anything, his smile widens a bit.

"I know," he says. "But you're going to change your mind."

***

I kind of want to punch him, but I don't want to risk losing my towel.

"What makes you say--"

"Because you want this." The words are low and whispered into my ear. _Shit!_ I let out a startled noise and try to jerk away, but Gackt's arms are strong, and all I accomplish in the process is the dropping of my towel. I freeze, and my heart jackhammers. He's got arms around me and I'm pulled tight against him, nothing between us but his black jeans and shirt. I can feel each individual shirt-button pressing against my spine.

"Hyde, my Hyde..." We're facing the full-length mirror. The steam has mostly cleared now and I look-- sure enough, he's staring at our reflection, at _my_ reflection, taking all of me in with greedy eyes.

"Let me go," I rasp, my voice squeezed tight in my throat.

"Is that what you really want?" His hands start to wander a bit, and I try to squirm away. I don't need the mirror to know that my body is responding in ways it shouldn't.

 _Yes,_ I think, _yes, that's what I really want!_

His hand dips low and then lower, stroking slow and sweet.

I hear myself say "no".

 _Hyde, you idiot! Damn!_

***

This is at least a hundred different kinds of wrong, but my brain feels like it's been soaked in syrup. It's hard to think beyond the feel of Gackt's hand, which is now stroking me to full hardness. I have to shut my eyes because the feeling is too much, but somehow I know he's still watching in the mirror. The thought only manages to make me feel dirtier, in the best possible way.

"Hyde," Gackt murmurs, lips brushing the side of my neck. "I want to taste you."

It's too difficult to think. I wet my lips, and my hips jerk. I'm on edge already, from nothing but his hand.

"Hyde, please," he says. His voice is pleading, a note I've never heard from him before. " _Please._ "

What is he asking? This is too much. I'm going to come. I can't think. "Yes," I say, giving in to whatever it is he's asking for. I open my eyes, watch his hand speed up in the mirror. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen. "Yes," I say again, just to say it.

Once again I'm slow on the uptake. I'm _this close_ , can feel myself about to spill into orgasm, and that's when he bites me, a sharp pain followed by the sweet pull of him sucking.

I come harder than I've ever come in my life, and then everything goes dark.


	5. At Least I Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wake up to warmth and darkness.

I wake up to warmth and darkness.

No, wait, something else, too: warmth, darkness, and--

"Ngh _fuck_!" I squirm, back arching off of what I assume is the bed. " _Gackt?!_ "

He lifts his head to smirk at me, but not before one last long, slow suck.

I pant. "Christ, Jesus Christ. This is what I thought you meant the _first_ time, you son of a bitch."

Gackt leans up on one elbow, looking far too pleased with himself for my comfort. His other hand plays along my cock, making me twitch. "Sorry for the confusion," he murmurs at last. His expression is anything _but_ sorry.

My eyes are slowly adjusting to the low light. We're in Gackt's bed (the sheets are satiny-smooth against my skin, just what you'd expect). I take a deep breath, let it out, try to stay calm.

"You. Fucking. _Bit me!_ " So much for calm.

"I _did_ ask," Gackt points out, reasonably. His fingers are still tracing up and down, up and down. It's making it hard to think.

"Yeah, but..." I can't really think of a good reply. Absently, I bring a hand up to touch the side of my neck. I'm not leaking blood, which is better than I expected.

Gackt makes a low sound, somewhere between a moan and a purr. "Don't do that," he says, even though when I look his eyes are saying _do it, do it._ "You'll make me want you all over again."

I swallow hard, suddenly afraid. Gackt's expression perks up, as if he can hear my heartbeat getting faster and it's exciting, like when a cat hears the can opener. He rises up on all fours, making like he's going to crawl right up my body.

"Hyde," he says, wetting his lips. His eyes are too bright, I shouldn't be able to see them this well in the dark. "Calm down. I don't want to hurt you."

 _Then don't!_ is what I think. But what I say is, "This is, this is _sex_ to you, isn't it? It's not even about food. This is fucking."

Gackt hesitates, then nods slowly. "If I take you again, I might not be able to stop myself. It could be... bad." But even as he says it he's throwing a leg over to straddle me, and then leaning down to slowly, slowly run his tongue along the place where he'd bitten before.

I'm too scared to move. I'm also too scared to contemplate why it feels so damn _good_. _Not now!_ I tell my erection, which is making itself known with a distant ache. _This is really not a good time!_

"Gacchan," I say, and my voice comes out as a high-pitched squeak. "You said you'd give me a choice--"

I don't see him move, but suddenly he's pinning my wrists to the bed. Struggling doesn't help-- God, how can he be so strong?!

"I know," he breathes against my mouth. "I know." He kisses me, deep, and I can feel the sharpness of fangs against my tongue. I shudder as he draws back enough to speak. "I can't help myself. I want to drink you down, every last bit of you. I want to suck you till you come again and again. I can do that, you know." He leans back to look at me, something like pride in his expression.

"Not interested," I rasp. It's the most useless lie I've ever spouted, what with my cock pressed hard against his thigh.

He smiles down at me, almost gently, but his grip doesn't get any softer.

"I could make you interested," he says. Something dark is shining out of his eyes, making him look feral, wrong. Once again I'm not sure he isn't picturing me on a silver platter. "I could take your ass and _then_ take your throat. Would you like that, Hyde?" His smile is verging on evil now, and my arms are starting to tremble with the effort to get away. "I could fuck you and suck you at the same time. Will you scream for me, Hyde?"

I'm about ready to start screaming _now_. "Gacchan! Wait!" He's kissing the side of my neck again and it makes my spine arch. "Get a hold of yourself! Shit!" I wonder if he's going to kill me. Murdered by passion, what a way to go. Desperate, I fling the last ace I have. "I thought you _cared_ about me!"

Gackt freezes, just like that. I can feel a fine vibration all through his body, as if he's literally fighting himself just to be still.

"I do," he says at last, more breath than voice.

"Then let me go," I say, and then I force myself to relax, not fighting him, not resisting. "Please. Let me go."

We stay like that for what seems like hours, but is probably only five minutes. At last, slowly, as if to keep me from running, Gackt loosens his hold, hands sliding away from my wrists in deliberate slow motion.

He sits back on his heels, no longer looming over me.

"Go," he says. "Now."

I slide out of the bed, embarrassed by my nudity and the fact that Gackt watches as I cast about wildly for my pants.

"Over on the chair," he says, helpfully, after about a minute too long. I turn to snap at him out of habit, but his expression kills the words before they even leave my mouth. He's doing that intensity thing again, staring at me hard with predator-eyes, as if he can see under my skin and he wants to lick everything he sees there.

I'm just clutching the pants, holding them in front of me like a shield. "Gackt, you're scaring me," I admit.

"I know. I'm sorry."

I struggle into my pants. It takes way too long to figure out where to put my legs. I keep looking back at Gackt, checking to see if he's moved. He hasn't. As far as I can tell, he hasn't even blinked.

I sort of back my way to the door. "I. I should go, now."

"Hyde, I'm sorry."

My hand is on the doorknob. "Tell me that when you _don't_ look like you want to eat me like candy," I say.

"I would never hurt you, Hyde. I love--" And then he stops, his expression horrified by what he's almost just said.

I can't listen to this right now, I _can't_. "I'm going," I say as I open the door.

"If you're not coming back, tell me right now," Gackt says. "If this is no, then tell me no."

I stare at him, naked and pale even against the white sheets, beautiful and perfect and now maybe immortal. I look at him and almost hate him. I look at him and fear him. I look at him, and the traitor in my brain tells me I want him.

And I can't say no.

I close the door behind me and run like Satan himself is chasing me to the front door.

Maybe he is. I'm too scared to turn my head and look.

I throw my shoes on and fling the front door wide, run until it feels like my chest is going to explode. Then I have to stop, wheezing, leaning against cold glass as I shudder and pant and hide my face behind my hands, like I'm a little kid and I can just make the world go away.

Gradually, my breathing slows. I realize it's morning, or almost morning, and the clouds are lighting up with the murky dawn.

Pounding startles me, and I whirl around. There's someone behind the glass.

 _We open at six,_ he mouths at me, pointing at a sign. I nod, dumbly-- I'd been leaning against a 7-11. Automatically I go to look at my watch, but all I get is bare skin. Must've left it at Gackt's. I cover my face again and laugh.

The employee moves away from the window, shaking his head. I catch my reflection in the glass-- shirtless, disheveled, washed-out. My expression is the best part-- I look like I've just seen my own ghost. I think, _I'm never going to catch a cab, looking like this._

Resigned, I start the trek home.


	6. Everything I Want. Nothing I Expect.

Weeks go by, and I don't hear anything from Gackt, not so much as a phonecall, not even a note stuffed into a coat-pocket. I know, because I can't stop myself from checking all my coats every hour or so.

I'm relieved. Relieved and panicked at the same time.

Megumi, for her part, doesn't say a word, even though I know I'm acting like a spazz. I keep forgetting appointments and I'm not eating like I should and I answer most questions in monosyllables, and once I even leave the house, slamming the front door because our son is crying and the sound seems to stab through me like guilt.

"He's in one of his _moods_ ," I hear her on the phone one night, giggling with some girlfriend. "You know how musicians are."

A part of me wants to explain why I'm so upset, but who the hell sits down with their wife and says, "Sweetie pie, sorry I've been so angsty, but Gackt wants to turn me into a vampire and I'm a little bit scared I won't say no"? It just doesn't have the right ring to it. Less of an "explanation" ring and more of a "here are the divorce papers" ring. Maybe even a "the nice men in white coats will be here soon" kind of ring.

Which I'd sort of like to avoid, all things considered.

So I stumble through the days, zombie-like, my mind doing the chasing-its-tail thing and always coming back to Gackt and his offer. I don't want to think about it, but it seems like it's the first thing that pops into my head every time I look into a mirror now and see how horribly old I'm getting. _I wonder what it's like not to get old...?_ And it's not even that, not even the not-getting-wrinkly thing, although that's a damned nice bonus. It's the power, and the darkness, and the undeniable _curiousity_ that's nagging me, tugging at my thoughts with tempting insistence every time I stop to think.

I'm selfish, selfish, selfish. I don't even want to think about it. What kind of morals do I have, here?

But I keep wondering, anyway.

***

I catch the tail end of some talkshow one night, late, as I sit up in bed with my insomnia. Megumi is next to me, doing that little whuffing thing that means she's deeply asleep. I tune it out as I focus on the screen, my heart doing this weird little flip-flop every time the camera pans back to Gackt's face. I'm half afraid he can see me, right through the screen, even though I know it's prerecorded and that I'm a moron.

 _"--so you haven't been going out much lately, Gackt-san?"_

 _"No." A smile. "I find I've wanted to be alone with my thoughts, you know, when you're really thinking about someone..."_

 _"Ah! So is there someone you're interested in?"_

 _"There is."_

 _"Like a girlfriend, lover...?"_

 _"There is."_

My heart pounds. Why? I click the volume up a notch, glancing at Megumi to see that she's still asleep.

 _"But they don't... Maybe they're not returning your affections?"_

 _A rueful smile. "I perhaps came on too strong. You know, when you like someone too much--"_

 _"Yeah, yeah, girls can play hard to get--"_

 _"Hard to get. Yes." A stare, directly into the camera, intense even from behind the artsy sunglasses. "Come and see me. I want your answer."_

Shaking, it takes me two tries just to click the OFF button on the remote, cutting off the host's laughing protests-- _"Gakuto, Gakuto, that's coming on too strong again! Hahaha--"_.

Shit. Fuck. How did he _know?_

 _Calm down, Hyde. He was probably just hoping you'd be watching. It's not like reading the future is a magical vampire power or anything._ My own pep talk leaves me less than reassured.

"Dammit, Gackt," I whisper aloud. "Do you have to be so fucking _creepy?_ "

Megumi coughs, and then drops into a light snore.

***

It takes me another week to amass the courage to see Gackt one more time. Summer has died, and now the leaves are just starting to turn brilliant with autumn colors. It's sunny and just slightly cool, with that little tang in the air, the kind of day you want to go for a stroll with your loved one.

Instead, I'm marching up to a door, ready to tell Gackt to take his offer and shove it, and half-expecting to die when I do.

To my surprise, the door doesn't open at my approach, not even when I lift my hand to knock. I can't quite bring myself to rap on the door, though, so instead I try the knob.

The door is unlocked.

 _Maybe he's expecting someone else. Like Dracula or something._ I can't even laugh at my own lame joke. Steeling my courage, I walk into the gloom.

I should call out a greeting, but I'm half-hoping he simply isn't home, that he left the door open by mistake and I can run away, tell myself I'll come back tomorrow, and hide for the rest of the night, maybe under my bed. Instead I step cautiously into the living room, sneaking like a thief, my steps inaudible against the plush cream carpeting.

"I can hear your heartbeat," Gackt says from behind me.

I scream and whirl around. He's standing in the doorway I just came through, wearing what looks like black silk pajamas. His hair is touseled and his eyes are sleepy and _dammit,_ he _still_ looks better than I do after a full hour in Makeup. Bastard.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I say, and then immediately wish I hadn't. _Way to go, Hyde, suggest your own death right off the bat. Brilliant._

But Gackt just pulls a face, one that says _You invited this on yourself, Haido._

There's a long moment after that, where Gackt just stands in the doorway and I stand by the couch and we just stare at each other, like teenagers at an old matchmaking-meeting.

"So," I say, finally. I shove my hands into my pockets because otherwise I'm going to give in to the urge to chew my nails, and nail-biting is not exactly Rockstar Cool.

"So," Gackt says, and there's an odd note of finality to it, like he knows This Is It. He looks scared, and sad, and beautiful, and suddenly I know somehow that he's going to let me go. Just like that. No more pleading, no more tempting, just... free. All I have to do is say the word.

I open my mouth, and what comes out is, "Take me with you."

***

Gackt's expression is priceless, and it would be really funny if I didn't suddenly feel like the room was going into a tailspin.

"Hyde, do you mean-- Whoa, easy, take it easy, don't faint--"

His arms are around me, holding me up, and I snap, "I'm not _fainting_ , I'm _swooning_ ," as if that's any more manly.

Gackt chuckles. "Of course. Here, sit down."

I let him push me down onto the couch, and it's easy to forget for a moment that I basically just told Gackt to Do Me, though maybe not in the way I'd always thought he wanted. Okay, maybe I don't quite forget it. _What am I thinking? What am I saying? I can't do this! I have a wife, I have a kid, I have a career..._

"Do you really want this?" Gackt says. His hand is rubbing up and down my back, soothing.

"No," I say. "Yes. Dammit, I hate you, do you know that?"

Gackt nods, as if it's actually the truth. "Tell me now, then, if that's your final decision."

I stare at him, his face too close, his cologne filling my senses. I think of my family, I think of my music, I think of Ken and Tetsu and, somewhere far away, Sakura. I think of all the things I've ever wondered about, all the stories I've ever read and wished were true. I think about all that I'd be leaving behind.

His face is too close. I think of him kissing me.

"Do it," I say. My heart jackhammers, and I resist a mad urge to laugh, or maybe cry. Maybe both.

Gackt nods again, and then he lunges for my throat.

***

"Jesus FUCK!" I say. "Don't DO that!"

"Do what?" Gackt lifts his head, expression innocent. "I'm only kissing you."

Again I want to laugh, just a breath away from hysteria. "I thought you were gonna... You know..." I squirm, because he's got my shoulders pinned but my ass is still sliding off the couch.

He obligingly lifts me up, shifting me back onto the seat and leaning up so that I'm still underneath him. "Soon. It'll be about two hours, maybe three."

"It takes that long?" I say, my voice small. I don't embarrass myself by asking what I really want to know: _Will it hurt?_

"No, not really."

I give him a confused look. "Then what is going to take two or three hours...?"

Gackt gives me a patient and rather smug smile. "We're going to make love first, of course."

"Oh," I say, rather dumbly. It takes a few seconds to sink in. "...OH."

Gackt nods, still smiling, like he's a kid about to tear open his Christmas gifts and he already knows he's gotten everything he asked for.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," he says, standing abruptly and lifting me in his arms like I weigh nothing at all.

"Wait a sec--!" I begin, but it's already way too late.

***

My back hits the bed, and before I can even protest the manhandling Gackt is over me again, on all fours, leaning down to catch my mouth and kiss me like he's determined never to stop.

I can't help arching my back, and I shudder when his tongue thrusts into my mouth. Shit. _Fuck._ Gackt kisses like he invented it, and I hate myself for wanting more.

He draws back after a few minutes, just enough to see my face. His expression goes soft, wondering. "Hyde, my Hyde..."

I can't look into that much raw tenderness. I turn my head away. "I wish you didn't want me so bad. Why, dammit?"

He smoothes my hair back from my forehead. "Because you're Hyde," he says, simply, and there's a world of undertones there; rueful, gentle, regretful, joyful. I can't even begin to separate them all.

"Let's do this," I say, finally, even though I'm strung tripwire-tight and I'm afraid that when he touches me for real I'll scream. Nevermind the "blood of my blood" shit right now. I'm about to get fucked by a _man._

"Okay," Gackt says, softly. He doesn't move, isn't even touching me now.

"Well?" I snap, impatient. _What's he waiting for?_

"Hyde," Gackt says, sounding amused, "open your eyes."

I hadn't realized I'd closed them. I turn back to face him, trying to read his expression. He looks like he wants to laugh, or maybe shake his head and sigh. It's not exactly a sexy look.

"What?" I say, defensively.

He does shake his head. "You're supposed to be enjoying this, too, Hyde."

I bite my lip. "Can't you... you know..." I wave my hand, trying to gesture my thoughts into eloquence. "Can't you just use your magical vampire powers to make me?"

"Yes," he says, simply, just stating a fact. "But I want you to want it, first."

Oh. I take a deep breath. _Do_ I want this? I mean, okay, I've fooled around maybe once or twice with another man. So maybe I used to make out with Tetsu every now and then, and there was that one time when Ken and I got really really drunk and he blew me before passing out on the couch, and there was that incident with Sakura... But that was totally different from this, honest.

I open my mouth to apologize, to say _I'm straight, sorry,_ but what comes out instead is "Kiss me again." I can feel my face go red even as Gackt leans down to oblige.

What is it about him that makes me say every stupid thing that stumbles through my head?

***

Gackt is kissing his way down my chest before I even realize he's gotten my shirt buttons undone.

I'm panting way harder than I should be, keyed up by nerves, shivering every time he presses that mouth to my skin. I let out a gasp when I feel his tongue dip into my navel, and Gackt makes a low, hungry sound against my stomach.

"Hurry up," I whisper, even though I don't really know what I'm egging him on to. "Hurry _up_."

His hands are undoing my belt buckle, and then pulling it out of the loops, tugging far too slowly. "No," he says, voice gone all velvet-warm. "I'm going to enjoy this _thoroughly_ , Hyde." He looks up at me, and I realize with stomach-tightening clarity that he doesn't just mean the sex.

I reach for him, my fingers threading through his hair. He makes a pleased sound until the moment that my fingers tighten and I _tug_ , pulling just enough to hurt a little.

"Hyde," he growls, "you do not want to do that."

"Do what?" I ask, all innocence.

His eyes are brightening with that starving man look again. Slowly and deliberately he crawls up my body, paying no heed now to my hand, so that he's towering over me.

"I am trying," he says, with great effort, "to be _gentle._ "

I nod, once.

Then I pull his hair again.

I'm pinned to the bed without ever seeing him move. Gackt is above me, laughing, and the sound makes me shudder, like a tongue at the base of my spine.

"Hyde, Hyde." It's like he can't stop saying my name, as if he needs to keep confirming that it really is me in bed with him. "I think you like it when I frighten you." He grins at me, wide, and I can see fangs now just past his lips. I swallow hard.

"Don't be ridiculous," I say, trying to ignore the tremor in my voice.

Gackt shifts, straddling me a bit more comfortably, and stares down at me with too-vivid eyes when he feels my hardness pressing against his thigh. "Oh really?"

 _Hyde,_ I tell myself, _you are one kinky son of a bitch._

Gackt laughs again, as if he'd heard it. I wriggle in his grasp.

"Yes, struggle," he says. His voice is so low I can feel it thrumming against my ribs. "I like it when you do."

So do I, but I'm never in a million years going to admit it.

***

"Bastard, you bastard, fuck, let me move!" It's all I can do just to keep breathing as Gackt licks his way up my cock. His hands press down on my hips, keeping me still, even though all I want to do is thrust up into his mouth.

"Patience," he murmurs, and then he's taking me in, swallowing me all the way down. I struggle and squirm and call him every name I can think of and then I moan, shamelessly loud. I let my eyes slip closed, because sight just seems like too much stimulation right now. _So good, so good..._

I'm already hovering on the brink of orgasm when he draws back. I let out a strangled noise of protest which may or may not have been the word "motherfucker".

"Get up," he says, in that don't-argue-now tone. "Hands and knees. _Now._ "

I scramble to do what I'm told, because he looks about ready to pick me up bodily and arrange me to his liking if I don't. I let my head hang down as I pant and tremble. I know what's coming, and I can't tell if I'm eager or terrified. Maybe both.

His mouth drags down my spine, setting off sparks, and I let out a sound that's too high and tight and desperate. His hands are everywhere. It's getting hard to breathe. I feel his tongue in places a tongue should never go and I realize I'm chanting _Please, please, please._

I feel something pressing against me, and it takes me a minute to identify it as a finger. I've never done this before, I can't, but before I can protest he slides it in and I'm shaking and whimpering and saying "Gackt, Gackt."

"Easy," he growls, "take it slow." But his voice is encouraging anything _but_ slowness. I sort of want to see his face, to see what sort of expression goes with that voice, but I'm also sort of relieved I can't. It would probably just scare me, anyway.

His finger presses in slowly deeper, slicker than it should be from just spit. If I tilt my head to the side I can just catch sight of a bottle off to one side on the bedspread. _When did he have time to grab that?_ I wonder briefly, before my attention is forcefully drawn back to other areas.

It's uncomfortable and it's weird and I'm not sure I like it. But when Gackt leans forward, breath hot against my ear, and says "More?" I pant, "Yes, please, yes."

He obliges me.

There's more discomfort as he thrusts deeper, and I'm almost ready to say _wait_ when he hits a spot I didn't even fucking know I _had_ , a place that makes me cry out, startled, as pleasure zings hot across all my nerves. Before I know it I'm thrusting back against his fingers, greedily trying to get more of that feeling.

"Better?" he asks, and I can hear the smirk in his voice as he angles just _so_ , and hits the spot again.

My arms are trembling so I let them drop, hiding my face in the pillows. I let out a muffled, ragged groan. It's the closest thing to words that I can manage right now.

There's more pressure, pain, pleasure, and I realize he's just gotten another finger in. I try to imagine what I look like right now. Vaguely, I wish there was a mirror.

"Hyde," Gackt is saying. I lift up on my elbows, trying to listen. "I want you. Please, let me--"

"Do it," I say. "God, god, please."

His fingers are gone for only a second, and then there's something far larger pressed against me. He hesitates there, and I can hear his ragged breathing.

"Say it now if you want me to stop," he hisses, and I know this is my last chance.

 _I should say no. I should say wait. I should say stop._

"Fuck me," I say instead. "Gackt, Gacchan--"

He does.

***

"Hyde, my Hyde..." Breathless.

I make a sound which I desperately hope sounds like inquiry. I'm too close now to manage anything that isn't a moan.

Gackt leans over me, changing the angle, hitting that spot again and again.

"When you come," he breathes against my ear, "I want to hear you say my name."

"Yes, yes, ah--! Gacchan!"

"Scream it!"

 _"Gackt--!"_

Everything blanks out for a moment, even my vision. All I can do is shudder and say his name, over and over, as I come.

The climax almost overshadows the pain when he bites me, drawing deep, sucking my life away.

Almost.

***

I'm surprised when I wake up. Not because of anything that happens, but just because I _do_.

"Nnh..." I don't hurt, but I feel like I _should_. Everything seems far away, almost dreamy. My hand goes automatically to my neck; it comes away wet, dark with blood. I stare at it in something like numb horror.

"Shh." Gackt is next to me, and one of his arms slides over my waist, pulling me close. "It's okay. Don't be afraid."

"Of course I'm afraid!" I say. There's way too much blood, and I can feel myself getting dizzy. "I'm dying!"

"Yes," says Gackt, "you are." I can hear my heart thudding in my ears, and with every pulse I get a little weaker, a little farther away.

I grab for Gackt's hand, my motions clumsy and slow. "I don't want to die. Gackt, I don't want to die."

"Then drink," he says, and suddenly there's a wrist pressed to my lips.

I taste blood. I'm too weak now to even jerk back in revulsion.

"Drink," Gackt repeats, voice soothing, compelling.

I do. Darkness swallows my vision again, and when I hear my heart thud once, slow and over-loud, I know it's beating for the last time.


	7. It's the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's snowing, and I'm standing outside watching fat flakes drift to the ground like feathers, or like the fluffy bits in a snow globe. The world is white and beautiful and serene, picture-perfect. Photoshoot perfect.

It's snowing, and I'm standing outside watching fat flakes drift to the ground like feathers, or like the fluffy bits in a snow globe. The world is white and beautiful and serene, picture-perfect. Photoshoot perfect. Which means that--

"Hyde."

Which means that _he's_ going to appear out of nowhere, looking as beautiful and serene as the landscape, if not quite as cold.

"Gackt," I say, noting that his long, fur-lined jacket hasn't even gotten a dusting of snow. _How the hell does he do that? Does he really just appear out of thin air?_

"You're looking quite festive," he murmurs, and it takes me a minute to figure out what he means. Only after he mimes brushing off his arms do I realize that I'm covered in a downy layer of snow. How long have I been standing out here in the cold?

I can't feel it anymore, as if the cold can no longer touch me. Or maybe I've just grown colder than the snow.

"Don't do that," Gackt says, stomping over to brush at my hair and shoulders. I get the impression he's stomping for my benefit, leaving footprints in the snow only because he wants to be reassuring. If it weren't for my mood, I suspect he'd leave no footprints at all.

"Do what?" I try to duck away from his hands, frowning irritably.

"Brood. How long have you been standing out here, scowling at the snow?"

I open my mouth to say something brilliantly scathing, but he leans down and kisses all my wit away.

"Bastard," I say when I finally pull back. "It was really clever, too."

"What?"

"Never mind." I sigh and look past his shoulder, watching the snow fill up all the corners and cracks, making the polluted world look fresh and clean. "Gackt," I say, and then I stop.

His hands are still on my shoulders, and I can feel the warmth right through my coat. A thought drifts through my head-- _Even if fire ceases to burn, I'll still be able to feel his heat._ Like he's the only real thing in the world. Maybe he is. Maybe he always was.

For just a second, I hate him.

"How long can we go on like this?" I say, and even I'm not sure what I mean.

Gackt pulls me into him, against his chest. The black fur edging his coat tickles my nose.

"Maybe forever," he says at last. "Maybe a year. Is it really that bad? I always wanted to spend Christmas with you, Hyde."

I chuckle, sort of weakly. "I didn't get you anything," I say.

"You're here with me. And in spite of everything, I know you'll stay." His hand plays with my hair. "Hyde, my Hyde..."

I can't protest. I _am_ his Hyde. I close my eyes and let out a sigh. There's a sort of peace now, in admitting that.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, after a while.

"Anything, for you."

It's sort of scary, because I know he really means it. If I said _Gackt, I want you to do the Macarena naked on Utaban tomorrow night_ , he _would_.

I shake the mental image out of my head. "Okay. Promise me... Just promise me this won't end up like _Moon Child._ "

Gackt steps back enough to look down at me. "So you're saying I should throw away the suicide pact I'd written out for us?"

"GACCHAN!"

"I even used calligraphy. You want me to waste good calligraphOW!"

I glare at him as I rub the hand that's just run palm-first into the side of his head.

Gackt sighs, as if put-upon. Then he slips into a solemn face and goes, "I promise this won't end like _Moon Child._ "

"Okay."

"I wouldn't give up the sex for anything."

"GACKT!" It's not like there's anyone around to hear, but that doesn't stop my ears from burning. Gackt's laugh at my scandalized reaction is deep, rich, and makes me think of chocolate. I realize belatedly that I feel better-- embarrassed, but better. How does he always manage to do this to me? Sure, Gackt gets to be angsty and dramatic, but when I do it he has to come up and _ruin_ it with his... his... His _cheering-up-ness._

It just isn't fair.

"Hyde," he murmurs, in that low midnight voice that's just for me. "I want to spend every year with you, waiting for the perfect snow, just like this."

It _is_ the perfect snow. Tomorrow it'll be slush and salt and lopsided snowmen, but right now, tonight, it's like we're the only people in a pure white world.

His breath doesn't steam in the air, but then, neither does mine. It bothers me less than it would've just an hour ago.

I hold him, and he holds me, and the snow covers us with its cold, cold blessing.


End file.
